A Knight to Remember
by ASwordByAnyOtherName
Summary: A story where Percival gets sick - will it travel to the rest of Camelot? Can Merlin and Gaius save him in time? Done because I love the friendships of the knights / NO Slash / All characters copyright to the BBC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Thank you for your patience as I worked out some of these pasting issues!**

* * *

The windy drafts seemed worse in the castle, Percival noted. Winter came fast and hard, with snow beginning to fall directly after the leaves changed. For weeks, the wind had been howling in the council meetings, in the armory, and the outside training sessions had been especially bleak. Even Gwaine had uncharacteristically fallen silent in the last session, a hopeless look on his face as he waited for Arthur to finally call it quits amidst the snow.

A short, barking cough left Percival's chest before he even realized it, and the passing servant girl gave him a wide berth in the hallway. Colds and coughs were not to be taken lightly, he was reminded – too many people in too close quarters, and a simple sickness could wipe out a village: or worse, a royal family. With this in mind, Percival went to his chambers, quickly changed clothes, biting back more coughs, and went on his way to the physician's chambers. He might as well try to nip whatever made his chest ache and throat tingle right in the bud.

Gaius must have been out to do rounds for the villagers, so Percival waited in his chambers for him to return. He was awfully tired – doing perimeter rounds of the castle and lower town, attending council meetings, and Arthur's legendary training sessions must have been catching up to him. He fell asleep at Gaius's table without even realizing what he was doing.

The winter sun was much longer in the shadows when a hand on his shoulder awoke him. "Percival?" Gaius asked, questions and concern knitting over his face.  
Percival sighed, which led to a cough. Admitting weakness was never easy for him, but he'd hate to put others' lives in danger because of what he may have come down with. "Well, it all started with these outdoor training sessions, and I can never get warm, and I've been noticing this cough", he tried with an easy tone, though he could feel the blush creeping up the back of his neck and the tickle in his throat.

Gaius nodded a quick confirmation and sighed. Even through the different levels of pomp and circumstance between the lower town and the castle, sickness struck everyone equally. He gathered some herbs and started his physical.

Sometime later, Gaius had reached his conclusion. "A cold" he proclaimed, watching the concern fly off of Percival's face. "Your lungs sound normal, and you aren't coughing up any fluid, but I'd like to keep an eye on it all the same. These types of sicknesses can spin out and become something truly formidable," he ended with his infamous raise of the brow. "No more training sessions for you this week, and I'd like you to stay inside the castle – no quests or extended time outside.

Percival sighed. He understood why the physician was concerned about it growing but mentioning that he was on quarantine to Arthur would only cause jokes and jabs from the King and the other knights – besides, he didn't want to be seen as being weak. "I understand, thank you," he solemnly told the physician. He left Gaius's chambers a little later, a satchel of lemon and honey tucked under his muscular arm.

As luck would have it, Percival met Arthur just around the corner of Gaius's chambers, almost smacking into each other. "King Arthur!" he proclaimed in surprise. "Sorry, I didn't see you there." At this, Arthur narrowed his eyes and looked up at his burliest, toughest knight. Percival was definitely in his own little world, and finding him this close to Gaius's chambers probably meant one thing- the knight had a health concern that he was trying to hide from the king. Though Arthur could play the part of a king, he considered himself a warrior first, and making sure his knights were taken care of was one part of leadership he never slacked on.

A quick smile graced Arthur's lips, more to put Percival at ease. "Just trying to find my manservant, you know how Merlin likes to hide away from work." With this, Percival looked slightly uncomfortable. If he confirmed Merlin wasn't in Gaius's chambers, Arthur would know that he was in to see Gaius. However, if he lied, it'd be lying to the KING, and he was pretty sure Gaius included the stocks in his previous "no extended outside time" demand. He quietly blew out a breath in frustration at his own humanity. Stupid body, getting sick.

Merlin's not in there, sire, I was just in to see Gaius," he confessed. "Just a slight cold; I'm sure it's nothing." Arthur quaked a brow. "What did Gaius tell you was acceptable to get over this cold?"

Percival looked sheepishly at the ground. "No extended time outside, no training, extra sleep" he repeated, embarrassed. With this, Arthur looked relieved that it wasn't anything more serious, and clapped him on the shoulder. "That's not so bad, why don't you skip the afternoon chamber meeting and try to sleep? The more you sleep the quicker you'll get over this nuisance." He tried to speak assuredly, having seen firsthand how colds could morph or go away seemingly on their style.

Percival decided to heed Arthur's advice and headed to his chambers on the other end of the castle, near the front of the citadel. In fact, his bones were starting to ache, so maybe some sleep would do him good.


	2. Chapter 2

When Percival woke, it was dark in his chambers. It was a quaint room, modestly furnished, but he was comfortable here. He had a small window by the desk, and the moonlight glinted off the window panes. He must have been sleeping for hours if it was night. His feet met the cold flagstone floors, and he shivered again, all warmth from his bed forgotten. Scrubbing his face with the water bowl left on the desk, he finally felt the fog of sleep lift. And my, he was thirsty. He looked for the water pitcher the maids usually left, but couldn't find it. Making up his mind, he pulled on his breeches and boots and quietly padded down the hall in search for water.

By the time he saw the second serving girl, he knew something was wrong. Everyone looked at him like they'd seen a ghost – and since when did his knees quake after the third corridor? He pulled himself into a window seat overlooking the courtyard, taking in the familiar scene below. A few servants scurried here and there, finishing up their chores for the night. A small group of men weaved their way back from the tavern. And… who was the pair of knights clattering across the courtyard? He tried to look closer, and after feeling the cool glass on his face, decided to rest there for a few more minutes. Through the clear glass, he could make out Elyan and Leon striding towards the citadel. They looked up to see his face flickering in the candlelight, but didn't look happy to see him. That was odd. He went back to quietly observing each person in the courtyard, wondering what their stories were, not really focusing on any one group now.

A cold hand on his shoulder made him jump and spin around, a cough rattling out of his chest as he did. Elyan and Leon were standing there with arms crossed, much like disappointed father figures. "Hey there, mates," he said as soon as his chest stopped spasming. Leon spoke first. "Percival, what the hell do you think you're doing? Do you know how sick you are?"

Percival was stunned with that bit of information. "Um, no… I was just asleep for an afternoon, what's the big deal?"

It was Elyan's turn to look incredulously at Percival. "It's been three days, mate. We've been worried sick about you, and here you are, just out of bed?"

Stunned didn't even begin to describe Percival's foggy head now. Three days? He had lost three days? Suddenly, his head swam and vision blotted with black, and he wanted nothing but to be back in his chambers, in his nice, warm bed. Why had he left in the first place again? Another cough brought him back to the present, where Leon's hand never left his shoulder. "Percival? Let's get back to bed." With that, he nodded dumbly, and allowed himself to be escorted back to his chambers, quaking knees and all. It wasn't until he was safely in bed that an extremely annoying coughing fit made him remember why he ventured out in the first place. Elyan magically found a water pitcher (was it there before?) and poured him a cup.

After sipping gratefully, he was able to thank the knights properly. "Three days, eh? What have I missed?" Seeing the look pass between the two of them, he knew the answer was juicy. It wasn't long ago that he was giving or receiving a look like that, when he felt like a part of the knighthood, instead of an ailing grandfather. "Mates? You can tell me," he coerced.

Whatever the look contained, Leon and Elyan staid the course. "It's absolutely nothing the knights of Camelot can't handle. We just can't wait until you're back, Perce."

"Yeah," chimed in Elyan, "you just focus on getting better right now, and we'll fill you in whenever you're ready to get back in the game."

Percival hated all of this – feeling like an invalid or a child, and just the act of carrying on a conversation was making his head pound and eyes droop with tiredness. Since when did he tire so easily? Elyan and Leon must have seen that, because they were on their way out, whispers between them, and he was falling into his pillow again, body weary with sickness.


	3. Chapter 3

The whispers between Leon and Elyan weren't conspiratorial in the slightest, but they were trying to battle out their priorities. Finally, it was decided that Elyan would go to Gaius to give him an update on Percival, and Leon would go to Arthur to tell him about Cenred's army moving closer to the Eastern border, since they were already late in their report. Both men nodded, then turned in opposite directions, intent on carrying out their orders.

Leon bit his lip in stress, moving authoritatively through the candlelit corridors. Being a few knights down, and an- increasingly likely- impending battle with Cenred's army was starting to show. While Percival wasn't the only knight that had sickness, he was by far the worst case they'd seen that winter. Arthur wouldn't be happy to hear the news that Cenred was moving so quickly. He reached the door to Arthur's chambers and halted for a beat, readying himself for the barrage of orders that would inevitably come.

On the other end of the castle, Elyan kept up his brisk pace to the trusted physician's quarters. The corridors were mostly empty at this time in night, so he dared to jog a few paces here and there, ensuring he didn't cause any panic by the sight of a running Camelot knight. Knights weren't supposed to be stressed or hurried, not unless there was an imminent threat of attack… he winced as he remembered that there **_was_ **an imminent threat, if Cenred's armies kept moving at their current pace. He knocked on the physician's door, steadying his breathing. One thing at a time…

Gaius woke up at the knock, and joined Merlin in stumbling toward the door. Elyan was on the other side, looking terribly worried. "Gaius," he started, "it's Percival. He's woken up, Leon and I caught him wandering out of bed, and he should be sleeping again."

With this, Gaius went on his usual full alert, scooping up the well-worn bag that had been carrying all of Percival's medicines to fight the fever. His sickness had taken a life of its own after the first day, and the fever much resembled a bucking horse – up, then down, then up again; unpredictable and wild. He and Merlin – who had woken up a bit more at this point – followed Elyan, their footsteps matching in pace and purpose.


	4. Chapter 4

When Leon broke the news to Arthur, he had expected yelling, or orders, or incredulous questions… he hadn't expected this. Arthur sat with his head in his hands, looking as weary as ever. The current situation with Cenred and his relentless marches on Camelot over the past few days had taken their toll on the king. After a few more silent moments, Leon quietly approached the king. "Sire? Might I make a suggestion?"

Arthur looked up, red rimming his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping well at all, instead pacing his quarters to figure out how to win against Cenred with less manpower and in the dead of winter. They were bested in numbers and force, and he couldn't very well compromise with Cenred – he wanted all of Camelot, dead or alive, and because of Morgana's traitorousness earlier, he knew quite a bit about Camelot's weak spots. Any suggestion from a trusted knight would be most useful right now, because he was closer to his wit's end than ever before. He motioned for Leon to continue.

"Well, Sire, Cenred is going for our eastern border. He knows our weak spots and will not hesitate to exploit those. But what if we were to feign more weakness?" At Arthur's interested look, he continued. "We had created the border fence between Cenred's kingdom and Camelot after the first time he tried to overthrow us, and we know about the existing weakness in the fence; how some of the wood is rotted. The bordering forest provides good ground coverage, and we can hide a few key knights in the undergrowth." Leon licked his lips, then delivered the punchline: "They'll see the weakness in the fence, but they won't see us hiding in the forest. We'll have to hold on attacking them; let them get cocky, let them understand that they easily slipped through our defenses. And while they're coming, we'll have them surrounded through the forest. They won't see us coming."

With this last sentence, Arthur got up and started pacing again. "So, you're saying, let them come in – don't staunch them at the border point, but rather drag them out a bit?" He chewed his lip and nodded. "Yes, with our current numbers of knights, that might be best to handle the sheer number of Cenred's army. We couldn't afford many casualties, though. We couldn't afford to lose. Because if we lose, then Cenred has the welcome mat rolled out for him – straight from the border towns to the citadel.

Leon nodded. "It would be my recommendation to spread men out from the border towns all the way to the citadel, for that reason." Arthur stopped pacing. "What about the people? The townspeople? The border towns, I can understand we could give them safe harbor here. But the lower town… preparing the people for an imminent attack could cause panic; cause them to lose hope."

Leon frowned. It was always his intent to grant the villagers safe harbor, but Arthur had a point. There were a lot of townspeople that would have many questions and needed to be granted safe harbor. "What if you were to give a speech, Sire, and lay out the situation? Not all of the strategy, but at least so the people could be ready, and they could volunteer to harbor villagers in their homes?" He remembered the last siege, and how the villagers and townspeople would barter goods and services – vegetables for a few nights' stay in a safe home, for example.

Arthur continued to chew his lip thoughtfully. With a limited number of knights now, and the inevitability of Cenred's persistence, it seemed to be the only way. He nodded to Leon, "Get the men ready, and I'll work on the speech."

* * *

Meanwhile, in Percival's chambers, Gaius was replacing his cool cloth on Percival's forehead while Merlin sponged off the sweat the large knight had already amassed. Suddenly, without warning, Percival leaned over the bed, body bucking as vomit poured from his mouth. Gaius and Merlin supported his pale, weak body and shared a look – usually fevers didn't get so bad that the patient vomited, but they had seen some bad cases together over the years. His shivers racked the bed, and the sweat poured from his forehead.

Gaius took a deep breath and whispered, "Is there something else you can try, Merlin? If this continues, I'm afraid he won't last much longer."

Merlin nodded affirmatively, as the same thoughts had been running in his mind for the past few minutes. For fear of not being found out, as Percival had been visited by Arthur nearly every day, they hadn't gone down the magical path yet.

Gaius made the decision. "I'll continue with the cool water, you should go back to the room and look up any solutions for extreme fever." With that, Merlin gave a quick half-smile, then walked purposefully back to the room – they had to find something to cure this thing, it was too out of control and made no sense biologically. A person's body could only sustain fever for a short period of time, he remembered Gaius telling him yesterday. Otherwise, the heart would simply tire out and stop. Fever was the body's way of trying to regulate things inside, but they had no real tools to determine _**what** _needed to be regulated.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Merlin awoke with the sun shining in on Gaius's worktable, pages of one of his magic books stuck to his cheek. Gaius must have spent the rest of the night with Percival, so he rushed out to help Arthur get ready for the day. Merlin had only gotten a few hours of sleep, but his adrenaline was rushing as he power-walked through the hallways, dodging servants and courtiers alike. He only hoped that he wasn't too late this morning…

Nearby in his quarters, Arthur threw his quill down in frustration. Telling the people that an attack was imminent without causing panic was no easy task. He couldn't really tell them what was going to happen, but Leon was right – they did need to be prepared. He took a deep breath, then tried again.

Meanwhile, in the knights' quarters, Gaius was mopping Percival's brow, who suddenly quaked slightly. Gaius immediately took a few steps back, lest he vomited again. Instead, Percival's eyes slowly cracked open, taken hostage immediately by the sun. Gaius rushed to close the drapes – he was trying to air out the room, as it felt heavy with sickness and sleep. He then poured a cup of water, asking Percival, "How are you feeling?" Percival groaned, his voice sounding foreign even to his ears after so many days of misuse. The eyes fluttered shut, and he quickly fell asleep again. Taking note of the sun, Gaius sighed. As much as the boy deserved round-the-clock care, he needed to complete his rounds. He let the guard duty at Percival's door – posted there after Percival's first rogue mission for the water jug so many days ago; and also, to help tamp down on any visitors that could catch his sickness – know he would be back as soon as he could, but to find him in the lower town if there was any immediate news.

In Arthur's chambers, the King had started pacing, muttering his speech under his breath. He wanted to raise the alarm but not raise panic, and as King, that was a hard thing to balance. Merlin stumbled through the door with his breakfast in hand just as Arthur was headed to the guards to track him down. Maybe breakfast would help calm his nerves, though Merlin had also proven himself to be handy with a quill, surprisingly. He gave his servant his award-winning smile. "Merlin, I have a really important document that I'd like you to look at while I'm dressing".

At that point, though, Merlin's brain was buzzing. He had found this potion that included common herbs and an uncommon incantation that should work to heal Percival, but he still wasn't sure. He had spent the early morning trying to find another spell for high fever, but hadn't had any luck. His brain was buzzing so much, in fact, that he completely missed Arthur's dithering behind his dressing panel. "Uh, Sire?" he hedged.

Arthur poked his head out, his increasingly red and angry head showing – "THE SPEECH, MERLIN" he shouted, which sent Merlin scurrying toward the desk, full focus now on his master.

"Clotpole".

"Prat."


	6. Chapter 6

Percival's door quaked open slowly, and Gaius, Elyan, and Merlin all entered. The room itself felt heavy with sickness and sleep. Percival lay on top of his bed, twitching, mumbling and sweating, a grimy sheen covering his forehead and bare chest. Gaius sighed, "The fever has returned." He motioned for Elyan to leave the room, lest he caught Percival's fever. Merlin moved ahead and got the peppermint, honey, and mint leaves for his potion, and whispered the incantation. A quick blink of golden eyes, and the potion turned from a muddy green to a liquid milky white. He sighed. Hopefully this was going to work… Waking up the giant knight was never going to be easy, but they did need to get these herbs into his system as quickly as possible.

Percival cracked opened his eyes. What had woken him up again? Oh, yeah, it was the incessant cheek tapping from Merlin. His unfocused eyes roamed around the room, not being able to settle on one thing, so he was surprised when a cup appeared at his lips. "Come, drink, Percival," Gaius's voice urged. Wait, when did Gaius get here? He was in the middle point, still remembering his dream – nightmare, really, about his village going up in flames – and still having a foot in reality. The potion dripped down his chin as he momentarily forgot how to swallow, and a cloth swooped in, like it never happened. Another cloth sponged at his forehead, making him shiver with cold. Gaius covered him with a blanket that he had kicked off, and he nestled back into his pillow, spent from drinking the potion and his fever. The cold cloth never left, and he basked into the feeling of being taken care of, his pride being too tired to show itself.

Later that day, Arthur's voice rang out clearly and confidently. "My people, it has always been my intention to be a fair, just, and honest king – even when times are difficult. Even when the news is difficult to relay." He sighed. "Camelot patrols have spotted Cenred marching on Camelot as we speak – now, before you get too anxious, remember – we have a plan to defeat them. We're escorting those in the lower border towns as we speak, and we will grant them safe harbor in the citadel. The knights and I will fight to protect our border, and they shall never reach the lower town. We will keep you safe. We only ask that you help give refuge to those in need from the border towns." Arthur looked appraisingly across the crowd. It looked like there was some apprehension, but most people just looked bored. The constant attempts to take Camelot had made the people less worried, so there was a slight benefit – maybe. Arthur knew it was time to wrap up his speech. After a quick "Long Live Camelot!", he took his leave to the armory to sharpen his sword and get ready for battle.

In his chambers, amidst his confusion brought on by the fever, Percival stirred upon hearing the cry of "Long Live Camelot!" He frowned in his semiconscious state. Arthur only said those words when there was a war or battle about to happen. What had he missed? Soon, though, he couldn't keep up with his chain of thought. He fell back into the blackness that had consumed him, with little tidbits of nightmare-like dreams.


	7. Chapter 7

Metal-on-metal sounds filled the armory as all the remaining knights sharpened their swords and filled their satchels with crossbow bolts. Arthur looked at the small group appraisingly – there were good fighters in this group, but he only hoped it would be enough.

Merlin pottered into the room, adrenaline taking a dip from running to the armory and taking care of Percival. He hoped the spell had worked – when he left, the fever was less, but it was still there. They wouldn't know more until Percival woke up again, so all that was left was to join Arthur in battle. The knights were a well-oiled machine; Merlin wasn't in the armory all but five minutes before they all got up and started to file out.

"Merlin, how's Percival?" Arthur questioned. Merlin marveled at his ability to multi-task – he was running the offensive and defensive strategies the knights had been practicing in his head, he was obviously worried about the battle, yet he still wanted to know about his sick knight.

"Better, sir – should be back to normal in no time," Merlin answered. He wanted to keep it as light and positive as possible – no need to worry Arthur right before a big battle. He gathered his sword from the corner, and joined Arthur as he was striding down the hallway.

"Good to hear," Arthur said, and added quietly, "We really could use his strength right now." Merlin laid a supportive hand on his shoulder – "Arthur, we've been practicing. The knights know what to do. We'll end up on top, because we have what Cenred's army doesn't have – you, and a large desire to protect our families."

Arthur quickly nodded, then set off for the stables. One more rallying quick speech to his knights, then battle. His nerves flared up, and adrenaline coursed through his body. Battle was so destructive, and he loved it so much – the chance to let out all his anger and aggression, the chance to be a simple warrior – not a king or royal. The odds seemed more even in battle, bested only by strength and speed. And his knights were ready, even with a skeleton army.

* * *

Arthur sat atop his bay stallion, taking a deep breath to settle his adrenaline down. They still had a few hours' ride ahead of them, and there was no need to pep everyone up too much. He needed an efficient, focused machine behind him for the moment. "Think of your brothers who can't join you, think of the sick people of Camelot who, without you, would be defenseless, and think of the training you've had to endure – it's time to put it to the test! For the love of Camelot!"

He heard the resounding, "For the love of Camelot" behind him as he wheeled the bay around, and all the knights – and Merlin, always at Arthur's side – left for the border.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: One last, master chapter! Thanks for sticking with me til the end!**

* * *

The door creaked open, and Gaius crept in, shuffling in tiredness and exhaustion. The latest fever in the lower town made it so he barely got any rest, and his weary bones weren't used to the constant back and forth between the citadel and town, not to mention the constant moving in the castle. "Merlin," he said, shaking his ward, "time to wake up."

Merlin shot up with a start. Where was he? How did he get here? As he gradually got his breath and bearings back, he wearily scrubbed his eyes with his palm. Oh, yeah. The battle, then rushing back here to give Percival more healing potion.

The battle was tough, but Leon's plan worked. They slaughtered Cenred's army before they had gotten a foothold in the Camelot border towns, and he could sense the relief in Arthur's shoulders. Surprisingly, they hadn't lost any men, though the battle wasn't without wounded knights. Sir Orville had a nasty sword injury right by his ribs, and Sir Elyan had significant bruising on his face from where he got pinned by one of Cenred's men. Still, Camelot fought back, as it always did, and it was a quick defensive battle – not like some of the others that had lasted for days.

When Merlin got back to Camelot, Percival was improving, but he still wasn't 100%. The fever was mostly gone, but he vomited anything they gave him, which meant he was dehydrated at all times. Merlin and Gaius worked throughout the night to determine how to heal him, and his fever had finally broken – last night? To be honest, Merlin's memory wasn't the best, and he had been barely able to walk due to the exhaustion of fighting in the battle then using his magic for the next four hours or so. He didn't remember how he and Gaius got back to their little room.

"Gaius? How'd we get back here?" he asked his mentor, yawning as he descended his little three stairs. Gaius looked sympathetically at his ward as he continued to gather their pots of herbs and potions.

"Well, you collapsed straight after we left Percival's room. Gwaine was on his way back from the tavern, and carried you here for me. He was pretty worried about you, but I assured him it was just exhaustion from the battle and with your chores." With this, he gave Merlin a stern look – "besides, how many times do I have to ask you to rest?"By this point, Merlin had plopped down at the table and gratefully accepted the bowl of porridge his mentor handed him. "How's Percival?" he asked between bites, hoping the change of subject would help the conversation from going to things he could improve on.

Knowing exactly what Merlin was trying to do, Gaius sighed, but decided to answer anyway. "His fever had completely broken, and he had a few sips of broth without vomiting them before we left. The potions and spells worked; you did an excellent job with him."

Merlin sighed a breath of relief- then promptly choked on his porridge. Gwaine walked into their chambers to Gaius beating Merlin on the back as his face turned pale, then purple. "Merlin!" Gwaine shouted, then ran to Gaius's side to help the porridge move from Merlin's throat with a _SPLAT_.

All three men sat down, breathing heavily. Gwaine turned to Merlin, "what the hell happened?" Merlin was still gasping a little, and pushed his porridge away. He didn't want to look at the traitorous bowl any more.

"Gaius was just telling me that Percival was a lot better, his fever broke. Want to come with me to see him this morning?" He got up, getting his favorite blue neckerchief and started toward the door. Gaius simply raised his eyebrow at his ward – Merlin got to change the subject, and Gaius didn't have to make the trek right away to see how he was doing. Instead, he decided to stay in his chambers and make up satchels of the same herbs that worked with Percival for the townspeople who were still battling the fever.

Gwaine decided to follow Merlin; he hadn't seen Percy in about a week and missed his calm presence. They chattered on the way to Percival's chambers, replaying their favorite parts of yesterday's battle, and Gwaine relaying some of his tavern stories from the night before.

Percival was awake when they got to his room. The sickness had made the large knight lose more weight than he needed, and his skin was stretched thin over his ribs. Still, not vomiting constantly has a way to lift the spirits, and he greeted his friends with a smile. "Merlin, Gwaine! So good to see you!" While Merlin mixed his potions, Gwaine pulled up a chair and started to regale Percival about all he had missed – the battle, how the other knights were doing, and the fact that one of the women he met last knight had a lovely sister. "So, Percy, you're going to have to get better so you can help me with that pair of sisters," he said, wagging his eyebrows comically. Percival took the bait, and started a low chuckle. "Right, I'd better come along so you don't make a fool of yourself, you mean," he shot right back.

By that point, Merlin had gotten the herbs mixed with some water, and Percival dutifully took it. "So what was wrong with me?" he asked in the midst of Merlin's albeit personal questions – how he felt, if he had used his chamber pot, if he felt like he was going to throw up.

Merlin frowned. "We're still not really sure, it presented itself like a cold, but then your fever just shot up." He furrowed his brow. "You weren't the only one affected, but your illness was a lot more serious than some of the townspeople – while they had fevers, they weren't near as bad or as long as yours."

By this point, Percival was looking too serious, so it was Gwaine's cue to jump in. "Maybe the illness affected you more, 'cause there's more of you to affect". While all three chuckled, Merlin checked Percival's pulse and forehead, looking for any more signs of fever. He didn't find any, and according to Gaius, there was one more thing to try today to prove the large knight was truly healthy again.

"Percival? Do you feel like you can get out of bed?" With those words, Percival's eyes lit up. He hated being bed-bound, but after the first try this morning before anyone came to check on him, he was a little scared– the world had tilted weirdly and he had almost crashed back on the ground.

Merlin had Percival sit up slowly, swinging his legs around the bed. During the sickness, they had removed most of his clothes, so he only had his underpants on. Merlin ducked around the chair and found a pair of breeches. He and Gwaine helped maneuver the knight, instructing him to stand up slowly.

Percival struggled against the vertigo as Merlin assured him it was simply because he was bed-bound for a few days. Merlin knew that they had to take it slow – Percival was too large for he and Gwaine to really support him if he passed out.

With his friends' help, Percival did a small loop around his room, knees knocking by the time he came back to bed. Merlin smiled in encouragement, "That was really good, Percival. Two of those a day, and you'll be back to training in no time."

Almost as if he were drawn to the word "training", Arthur strolled in. "Ah, Merlin! I was looking for you. My armor needs polished and my quarters tidied up." Merlin shared a look with Percival before skittering out of the room, his usual duties squaring his shoulders. "So, Percival, I hear you'll make a full recovery?"

At his king's words, Percival nodded, looking a little sheepish for being sick and missing a battle. "Yes, Sire, I'll be back in no time."

Arthur smiled. "Take your time – I'd rather have strong, healthy knights by my side." And with that, he turned and followed Merlin's shadow down the hall. Gwaine and Percival shared a smile. They were no strangers to hardship, but everything was always made right in the end.


End file.
